Cold
by Silver and Gray
Summary: Alfred goes to Ivan's house with a reason that he will not admit.


**I wrote this a long time ago, and I figured I may as well post it (:**

**Enjoy!**

He lay on the bed and stared out the window, watching as the snow fell. He had taken his glasses off and placed them on the bedside table, making the snowflakes small blurs through his muddled gaze. His chest slowly rose and fell as he breathed. His posture was relaxed as he lay among the rumpled sheets, not knowing when he would get up. Maybe never. He felt too good, just laying there.

He hadn't changed ever since he had gotten there, so he was still in his t-shirt and jeans, stumbling up to the doorstep of Ivan's house. One of his socks had slipped off as he had slept, and when he woke up, even though it was frigid in the room, he was lying on top of the sheets. But he didn't want to move. He wanted to still lie there, feeling the cold air blow in on the exposed skin of his stomach as his shirt slid up slightly, causing goosebumps to form. All he wanted to do was lie there, staring out the window as the snow fell, waking and dozing in a sleepy stupor.

The door opened with a small creak, but he made no move to look to see who it was. He knew who it was anyway. He had been coming in for the past hour practically every ten minutes.

There was a silence, and Alfred knew he was just _standing_ there, which was an improvement from before where he would just linger at the doorway. But he didn't say anything about it. He didn't want to say anything.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he opened his mouth, "Comrade, what are you doing? You haven't moved from there for hours. You will tell me what's bothering you, yes?"

Alfred ignored Ivan's question, which sounded more like a demand, and continued to stare out the window. All he wanted to do was fall like the snow, fall into the cold, frigid weather. He wanted to become the snow…

Seconds passed. Minutes…maybe even hours. Alfred couldn't tell. But it wasn't until he felt the bed creak lightly as Ivan sat down on it, next to him. But he continued to stare in the opposite direction, acting as if he were oblivious.

"Alfred…"

That had been the first time in so long…longer than Alfred could remember that Ivan had called him by his name and not _'Comrade'_ he thought, feeling his upper lip twitch in annoyance at the word.

Ivan placed a hand on his shoulder, and Alfred thought it was just a gesture of comfort until he was suddenly tugged around until he was staring into Ivan's eyes, their faces nearly inches apart.

"Why will you not speak?" Ivan asked, his eyes scrunching up in confusion. He was becoming frustrated, and Alfred liked the feeling, like he was triumphant. He stared back and didn't answer, causing Ivan to growl in the back of his throat. Oddly, Alfred found the sound rather arousing. Grabbing the back of Ivan's neck and pulling him even closer. Ivan's breath caught, expecting something…expecting _what_?

Alfred had pulled him forward until his mouth was to his ear.

"You won't…" Alfred said weakly, but with enough force that Ivan held onto his words and listened to everything he said, "You won't be able to stop me…"

Ivan slowly leaned back and stared at Alfred. Strong, determined eyes stared back, but they looked…weak. "You are sick." He said without thinking. He saw anger spark in Alfred's eyes.

"You are sick, and you come to me? For what, Comrade? I cannot help you with your economy…"

Alfred growled slightly and grabbed Ivan's scarf, pulling him close again. The movement took effort, Ivan observed, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he placed a hand on Alfred's chest, pushing him back toward the bed gently.

"So…it is not help you want? What do you want?" Ivan asked, his voice a husky whisper as their heads moved so close together, their foreheads touched. "I think I know."

And with that, he moved in closer and began to kiss Alfred on the mouth. Alfred didn't say anything, but it was what he was hoping for, ever since he had wandered toward Ivan's front step. He had wanted to feel Ivan's lips, feel his hands traveling up his shirt. They broke apart from the kiss with a small gasp, Alfred breathing heavily, Ivan just staring back smugly.

"You want my strength?" Ivan kissed his neck softly, and Alfred responded by gritting his teeth and running his hands through Ivan's hair. He smirked.

"Of course…" Ivan murmured, slowly unbuttoning Alfred's shirt. He moved his way down until he was at the last button and undid with his one finger. Alfred looked up at him, gasping for breath. "You would only come to me for strength…"

And he leaned in again. Alfred, now shirtless, felt every single piece of icy cold prick at his skin, and he involuntary pulled Ivan closer as if an instinct for finding heat.

Ivan smirked. He didn't mind at all.


End file.
